


The problem is, no matter where they are, or when, it's always been Makoto

by erinlightwoodbane



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Les Misérables References, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinlightwoodbane/pseuds/erinlightwoodbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place in a chronological order from the first time they meet during world war 1, to the Free! Eternal summer universe.<br/>Because it's always been Makoto, Sousuke falls for, and it always will be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beginning of the end

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first story on here, because I just really love SouMako.   
> Comments appreciated! Enjoy!

The Beginning Of The End

This chapter was inspired by ‘Les Miserables’ All rights belong to both the creators of Les Miserables and Free! Eternal Summer

The first time Yamazaki Sousuke falls in love is during the French Revolution in 1789.

He’s a commanding officer in the French Army, a fearless man with nerves of steel, a man dedicated to his country, and he is not going to be seen as some goddamn rebel sympathizer. 

He couldn’t- he shouldn’t. 

He’s met most of them and their all wild, useless creatures. 

Well, that’s what he tries to tell himself anyways.

Except he’s met a man, though really, he’s just a boy, and couldn’t be a day older than 18. 

And he’s not some peasant born on the street either, no, infact it’s quite the opposite. Because this boy, this Makoto, was raised by royalty.  
And yet there he is, leading an army against his own country.

And a damn good job he’s doing of it too.

He doesn’t yell, doesn’t even raise his voice against his followers, and yet he manages to wrangle them under control with soft, meaningful words, raised brows and fond expressions of exasperation.

Sousuke finds himself watching Makoto himself rather what he and the rebels are actually doing. And he hates himself for it, because yes, although Makoto may be ridiculously beautiful, he’s still a traitor. Still a danger to his country.

He’ll be dead soon anyway. 

And yet the thought alone leaves a bitter taste in Sousuke’s mouth.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to stop the rebel’s plans, he just doesn’t want to kill any of them.

Maybe it’s because it turns out that Makoto has a younger brother and sister who look up to him so much that it’s painful to watch.

Or maybe it’s because he has a friend – Haru he’s called, who Sousuke dislikes immediately. And they’re so close that they can tell what each other’s thinking without even speaking. And in a way, they remind Sousuke of him and Rin, well, except without the telepathy.

He’s a genuinely nice guy too, not Sousuke that is, but Makoto, who gives away his day worth of rations to the homeless without batting an eyelash. 

Sousuke would never be able to do that. He supposes he’s always been the selfish type. 

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t want Makoto to die.

But he doesn’t even know the boy. If Makoto knew of who he was, and who his alliance was with, he’d probably be more likely to slit his throat than offer him a kind word.

Though that doesn’t seem like Makoto either. He’s seen the way he acts, a gentle giant if you will, kind and caring.

But there’s no room for attraction, not even one as deep as Sousuke’s.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He stands among the crowd, seen as just another one of them.

Gone is the uniform he wears so proudly, replaced by a long blue cloak, and a hat pushed low down his head. 

It’s hard to focus when Makoto is standing so close to him, standing tall, with his head held high, eyes darting across his friends. He’s taller than Sousuke initially thought, and he smells nice too- of mint and summer.

The whole crowd is on edge as the carriages and soldiers parade down the street. Sousuke spots Rin at the front who gives him a glance as he walks by but shows no sign of visible recognition.

And then suddenly a voice rings out with song, loud and clear and full of confidence.  
Makoto.   
It’s a beautiful sound and soon Haru joins in, voice low and demanding. And then there’s a blonde boy, short with bright violet eyes, who is soon followed by a taller boy, with dark hair and red rimmed glasses. 

Their voices mix well with one another and soon the whole square is joining in.

Do you hear the people sing?   
Singing the song of angry men?  
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!  
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.

They jump out and onto the street, wielding red flags held with pride high above their heads.

Dread settles deep into Sousuke’s stomach as he sees the soldiers stiffen, but make no move to act.

Not yet.

He watches in silent horror as Makoto clambers atop the main carriage gracefully, still singing, and waving a large flag in the air, determination settled into his handsome features.

Haru stands next to him now, and they each glance at each other, nod, and clench their jaws.

They both pull out guns, straighten their shoulders and aim forwards with what looks to be deadly precision, judging by their stance.

Shots ring out through the cold winter air and Sousuke watches as a battle breaks out among the two sides.

Without thinking, he runs to Rin’s side who sends him a wild grin as he aims.

Straight at Haru, fingers pressing down on the trigger.

There’s a moment where it seems Rin freezes, and his expression softens before changing into one of complete horror.

Rin’s found his soulmate, Sousuke realises.

And he’s sure to have killed him.

Except he hasn’t.

There’s a flash of emerald green and chestnut hair before Haru is pushed from where he stands.

Makoto.

He too falls, but the bullet has grazed him arm and is already flowing with blood.

They both tumble to the ground, falling over one another before landing in a heap of tangled limbs. 

With no hesitation, Sousuke runs to their side, pulls them up by their collars and roughly pushes them to the side, out of danger. 

Haru’s already disappeared down an alleyway with the rest of the rebels, but Makoto stays.

Hesitantly, he places a hand on Sousuke’s arms, and fills Sousuke with warmth. 

He bites his lip distractedly. “Thank you.” He says, before following after Haru. 

And oh god. Makoto, a traitor to his country, is Sousuke’s soulmate  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He doesn’t see Makoto again until it’s too late.

He feels it in his body, his heart, his very soul.

And so he runs.

Down the cobbled streets, and past where the boy with the golden hair lies dead on the floor, the man with glasses lying atop of him.

The place is a massacre. 

But he fights his wave of repulsion as he steps into the rivers of blood.

Fights his way past the mangled bodies, the fallen soldiers and the traitors.

Except they weren’t traitors really. 

Only wanted to make a difference.

Most of them weren’t even 18.

Still children.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The singing is what catches his attention, drifting down from the old church tower. 

Makoto.

He sprints up the steps, feet echoing across the airy corridors.

He ends up in a large, domed room, standing behind several of his fellow soldiers. 

He recognises Rin first, standing in the middle of his cadre, face grim.

Makoto and Haru stand opposite him, hands clasped together in comfort for the inevitable.

Makoto meets Rin’s eyes defiantly before landing on Sousuke and flashing him a shaky smile. 

Oh god. Please. No.

Together, both Haru and Makoto hoist the red flag up into the air. 

A symbol of rebellion, of a new life, of hope.

The gunshots echo through the air, impossible to miss their mark. 

Haru falls first, and then Makoto.

He slumps elegantly over the open archway overlooking the city, hand still grasping Haru’s tightly.

A team.

Unbreakable to the very end.

His body is still, and his bright eyes are vacant of their usual colour, open and staring.

Empty.

Much like Sousuke’s own heart.


	2. Until the next time, my love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Hope you all like this!

The second time they met, they are both soldiers – raised and bred among the battlefield.

Except not with each other. 

Because apparently it’s too much to ask for a happy ending. 

Sousuke is once again raised with Rin. He very much doubts that’ll ever change.

And at first it’s okay, but then Sousuke realises that he’s the only one who can remember his same love from all of his past lives. 

Sometimes theirs war, in some lives Makoto is killed from sickness or even from man. But sometimes there is no pain. 

Not until they have to say goodbye at least.

Sometimes they grow old together, with children.   
Sousuke likes those lives best.

But It seems like this is not going to be one of those times.

He’s not even sure why they’re even fighting.

All he’s been told is that an important political figure has been assassinated. 

But he follows his orders anyways – invade Britain and take as many soldiers possible as captives.   
They’re doing that now – he and Rin.

People are screaming and he guns them down without a second thought. 

Because that’s what he’s been trained to do. 

No regret and no remorse.

And though the sickness he feels continues to build, he pushes it down and continues on, Rin close behind. 

Where they see two men lying on the ground. 

From a distance, they look as if they’re already dead but the figure on top is moving, whispering hurried words of reassurance, all while glancing around them anxiously. 

They charge forward all at once, lifting guns to point at the two British soldiers.

The man on top glances upwards at the commotion, and Sousuke feels his heart stop.

Makoto.

There’s no mistaking it.

And he’s even more beautiful than Sousuke remembers. 

His cinnamon shaded hair is pushed to one side, revealing high, angled cheekbones and eyes of the deepest green. His lips are dark and his cheeks are flushed. 

But there’s a hostility in his vibrant eyes that Sousuke hasn’t seen before.

“You lay a hand on him and I’ll rip you to shreds.” Makoto growls, his voice low and protective. 

Sousuke had forgotten the other man was even there.

He looks down and is not at all surprised to see that it’s Haru. 

He blinks blearily up at Sousuke before a flicker of recognition crosses his features.  
Did he know who he was?

But then he slumps down again and Sousuke notices the deep gash in his side, full of shrapnel.  
He winces slightly.   
Damn, that’s going to be a bitch to clean.  
If he even has that much time left that is. 

Faster than he can react, a figure steps forward –Momotarou- and shoots the poor bastard right in said wounded area. 

Haru died instantly that day.

He hears Rins sharp intake of breath before he realises what’s happening.

Makoto rushes forwards, and Sousuke sees to his eternal horror, that Makoto is crying.

Makoto never cries. Not once in his many lives has Sousuke seen Makoto so much as whimper. 

The soldiers instantly place a warning finger on their trigger but Makoto doesn’t move even an inch.  
He sinks to his knees, his broad, muscled shoulders trembling.  
Sousuke resists the urge to place his hands atop of them in comfort. 

But still, he keeps them clasped firmly to his side, even as he watches his fellow soldiers move forwards, cautiously at first, but then more confidently, as they shower his love in brutal beatings. 

Only Rin stays at his side.

His eyes are wide with sorrow, and it looks as if he’s having a hard time not bursting into tears. 

He places a hand on Rin’s shoulder, with understanding. 

Because he knows better than anyone just how painful it is to see the person you love most gone.

Rin turns to him, and realises this too. 

He glances at Makoto, an eyebrow raised in question. 

Sousuke gulps, nodding his head firmly before looking away. 

Rin makes a soft sound of sympathy just as his cadre pulls Makoto off his feet, forcefully tying his hands together.  
Makoto doesn’t even seem to realise- just stares at Haru’s still body, eyes empty and lacking their usual warmth.  
Sousuke forces himself to move so that he’s standing infront of Makoto, looking him in the eyes.  
Except Makoto refuses to meet his stare, and instead spits at the ground infront of Sousuke’s feet.

Right. 

That was less than he deserved. 

A sharp kick to the back of the knees sent him sprawling to the ground.

“That is how you will treat your commander.” Momo growls, narrowing his amber eyes at Makoto’s body.

“I don’t know why you’d do that when the action is to display respect. I’d expect nothing from scum like him.” Sousuke says quietly, his own words making him feel sick to his stomach.

Makoto lets out a low, humourless laugh, eyes still transfixed on Haru.   
“Is that how you really feel about me, Yamazaki?” Makoto questions, a delicately arched eyebrow shooting up in wonderment.   
“I mean, last I recalled, I’s say we got on pretty well.” He glances up then, eyes mocking and lips pulled back into a disgusted snarl.

Disgusted of him.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
They brought him back to their barracks, shoving him roughly down to his knees in a dirty cell reeking of urine. 

Sousuke’s heart swells with guilt but he tears his eyes away from his soulmate and onto Rin, who stands outside the room, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

He looks around cautiously before stepping next to his friend. After the snide comments from Makoto, Momotarou and the rest of the squad had shot him wary glances all the way back to the camp. 

If he didn’t watch himself, he’d be dead by morning.

Makoto too, and Sousuke wouldn’t dare do anything as cruel, not even after the hurtful comments.

He’d deserved it after all. 

Suddenly, a loud bang rings out from the top of the old stairs. 

They both look up, instantly on edge and their hands on their weapons. 

And then Rin passes something into his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before sprinting up the stairs, only slowing to give Sousuke, an apologetic look – sad almost.

What the hell was going on?

He loosens his hand and watches as a tiny pill no bigger than a button falls down onto the muddy ground.

While dread fills his stomach, he picks it up, wiping the dirt off his trousers and inspecting the pill cautiously.

Pure black.

A soft, inaudible gasp passes his lips as he realises just what the purpose of the pill was. 

Death – slow, but painless. 

An escape.

But not for himself. 

For Makoto.

Rins last gift to him- saving Sousuke’s lover from years of torture. 

His throat closes up as he slowly walks forwards, hesitant. 

Did he really want to do this? 

Keep Makoto alive only for Sousuke’s selfish need? 

No. 

He couldn’t do that. 

And though the mere thought of it brought tears to his teal eyes, it was what Makoto would want, of that he was confident. 

He’d witnessed enough of the brutal tortures to know what would happen to Makoto if kept alive, hell, he’d inflicted most of them.   
And it is said, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell.  
Oh god.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He was outside the door now, hidden among the shadows as he watched Makoto curl in on himself against the stone wall, cold and alone. 

And with a silent prayer, Sousuke stepped forwards into the light.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He lifts the pill up as he enters, and Makoto’s eyes widen in both recognition and understandment.

Though he did not protest, for it was not like Makoto to do so.

Only smiled softly, and gently pulled on Sousuke’s hand, soft and warm in his own.

Sousuke pulled him into a hug, hands grasping the back of Makoto’s jacket tightly, desperation shown in the shaking shoulders. 

“It’s fine, I want this.” Makoto murmered, voice soft and quiet and welcoming, sounding so much like home that Sousuke wanted to break down right there and then.

But there were things to do, and to be said. 

“I love you.” Sousuke gasps, his voice muffled against Makoto’s strong shoulder. 

“Love you too, you spork.” Makoto breathes, a laugh ringing out against the cold room’s walls. 

He grabs the pill out of Sousuke’s grasp wordlessly, before laughing again, albeit shakily.

And he’s still smiling when he dies, enveloped safely in Sousuke’s arms.

Until the next time, my love.


End file.
